


P.S. I Still

by dahlia2



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Longing, M/M, Masturbation, Set right after Juno leaves petey boy that one time, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahlia2/pseuds/dahlia2
Summary: Juno shouldn’t have felt bad for what he did.Aka juno thinks about peter again and gets a little distracted
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Kudos: 25





	P.S. I Still

**Author's Note:**

> Juno is obviously trans and so is Pete.  
> Dick is used to refer to Juno’s clit and Peter’s strapon. Juno has a pussy and gets Laid. Sorry, I don’t make the rules sometimes we just don’t want to say bonus-hole  
> I’m not cis don’t @ me.

Juno shouldn’t have felt so bad for what he did.

People make choices. People have priorities. Sometimes, a gal has to leave a guy.   
  
But Peter wasn’t just some guy. No, Juno hadn’t felt this starched to someone in a long time. He was acting like a goddamn schoolgirl with a crush.   
  


He couldn’t help it. All of this was different.

That’s why this hurt so bad, wasn’t it?   
Juno hadn’t lost “some crush”.

Juno hadn’t even lost “a love”.   
  


Juno had lost The Love.

He had never felt this way about anyone before. The people he dated after couldn’t compare. The people he dated before were so distant a memory because they just were not him.   
They couldn’t even try to be if they wanted to.   
  


Laying in his bed, heat of the season surely the cause for the sweat on his brow, he imagined what he would do if his lover returned through the door.

It was silly. He was fully aware.

And yet

He’d be wearing a suit, but he’d have to lose the jacket soon enough. His hair would be short, shaved on the sides, long enough to pull- if someone so desired.

If Juno so desired. A spark of arousal ran through his body at the thought.

But then- instead of ordering Juno to his knees, the way he oft imagined the thief might if they were to meet again- He’d dare to say his name- 

oh, sweet desperate whisper.

And that would be enough.   
enough for what?   
  


Enough for Juno to forget everything. The good, bad, the pointless moments of pain the two had caused one another. Enough to release Juno from whatever held him back from springing off of his shitty mattress in the corner of his room and tug the dark haired man through the doorway.   
  


Enough to close the apartment door not with hands but a shove of bodies roughly colliding against the white painted wood- as hands instead- shaking, aching- need racing through fingertips, clutched Peter’s bleached button down, ran along Juno’s bare shoulders. The embrace would last for minutes in almost dazed silence before each realized this love truly was not lost forever. Things could return as they were before- no, could grow beyond that.   
Juno’s head would be tucked in the space between Peter’s shoulder and neck. Peter’s own hand would rest on soft curls as he pulled his love only closer.

Then- words. They must be said eventually.

”I’m so sorry. I never-“

It was not yet time. No, this was not the moment for apologies. The act of pulling away to speak would be too much for the two. Too much for Peter.   
  


Touch. Touch. They needed skin on skin or to die by the effort not words. Heat of bodies making movements in apologies, making feelings into- 

“Fuck,” Juno breathed into an empty room, his chest aching. And he could in the same breath catch himself thinking, ‘I don’t deserve you saying anything to me anyways.’   
  
He could distantly recognize the feeling of tears against cheeks but instead chose to focus on his hand sneaking under the waistband of boxers already damp at the crotch. His dick was hard, his heart was pounding away in his ears.   
  


He wanted what he couldn’t have. What he didn’t deserve.   
  
He held close to the memory of Peter’s tongue, tracing between his lips, of his fingers crooked as they dug deep into his pussy. Of his dick, as it fucked him into the mattress with a force he had never felt before.

His mouth, now, stayed wide and open as he touched himself, imagining the feeling of Peter’s cock sliding down his throat. His back arched at the memory of his hands tied to the bedpost, of his legs tight around Peter’s waste as the neighbors downstairs surely heard the way the mattress slammed against the wall with every thrust of Peter’s cock deep within him.   
  


“Peter. Peter. Please- Daddy- Take me! Use me!- I -“ The confession fell into the room like a prayer into a godless sanctuary.   
  


Juno, crying and ashamed, tucked back into his bed. 


End file.
